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I went to the AIB and joined the queue. Took the time to fill out a withdrawal slip. Put down a hefty figure. Wouldn’t you know, the same cashier. I said brightly,
“Hi.”
She looked up and remembered. She didn’t sigh, ’cause the banker’s manual forbids that. But she got as close as she could. I handed her the docket, said,
“I guess you won’t require proof of identity this time.”
She could delay me though. That is in the manual. She stood, said,
“I’ll need this authorised.”
“Grab a cig while you can.”
“I don’t smoke.”
“You amaze me.”
I read about home loans, equities and other riveting s**t. Could see her in consultation with a suit. He looked my way four times. I know because I counted. When she returned, she asked,
“How would you like your cash?”
“In a brown envelope, keep t
